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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962528">ghosting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/papercr0wns/pseuds/papercr0wns'>papercr0wns</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abandonment, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Juno Steel Needs a Hug, Nonbinary Juno Steel, Other, Pet Names, Peter Nureyev Needs a Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, blatant overuse of pet names actually, canon-typical juno thinking everything is his fault, dw they both get their hugs, juno calls nureyev honey/sweetheart and you can rip that from my cold dead hands</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:48:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962528</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/papercr0wns/pseuds/papercr0wns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I wasn’t going to leave, Nureyev,” Juno says suddenly, the guilt in his voice poorly hidden, “You know that, right?” Peter nods because he does. He knows Juno won’t leave again, both because it’s objectively impossible for Juno to tuck tail and slip out of the Carte Blanche in the middle of the night, what with it being a ship literally hurtling through space and all, and because he trusts that Juno, this Juno, wouldn’t. But that… that doesn’t mean he believes it. </p><p>There’s still some small, white-hot sliver of doubt that wedges itself in between his ribs, that jolts him awake when he feels Juno shift away from him in his sleep, that makes him forget how to breathe when he wakes to find Juno’s side of the bed empty, even if realistically he knows he’s that he’ll only be gone a moment. </p><p> </p><p>or, Peter is still haunted by the memory of an empty hotel bed, no matter how hard he tries to shake it.</p><p>edit 3/17/21: this now has a podfic by the lovely cai (bisexualoftheblade)!!! it's so very good everyone say thank you cai we love you cai</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>248</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>ghosting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi i woke up in a cold sweat to write this at 1 am because i'm gay and have a lot of feelings basically uhh bon appétit. </p><p>TWs for a very, VERY vague reference to past abuse, and non-graphic descriptions of panic &amp; vomit. which like makes this sound way darker than it is this is like... literally just fluff lmao what can i say i am Yearning. </p><p>also this was very loosely inspired by 'be right back' by argentumauream which i highly highly recommend it's so very beautiful and soft and i adore it.</p><p>title from, "ghosting" by mother mother</p><p>edit 3/17/21: link to cai's lovely lovely podfic version of this at the end!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time Peter falls asleep next to Juno Steel, he feels safe and almost ecstatic in a way that makes him feel floaty and he’s more sure in his future, in <em>himself</em>, than he thinks he’s ever been. And then he wakes up alone.</p><p>At first, he doesn’t think anything of it. Instead, he rolls over to tuck Juno’s pillow into his chest, burying his face into the soft fabric and taking slow, sleep-hazy breaths that still smell like Juno and barely notices that the pillow he’s cradling has gone cold. He languishes in the blissful liminal thing that lies between sleep and waking for a handful of minutes, but Juno doesn’t come, and Peter realizes that he can’t hear the soft sounds of someone else puttering around in the room, and when he finally wakes in earnest, he realizes that the only clothes left strewn across the floor are his.</p>
<hr/><p>Later, after they reconcile, they spend nights together so often that Peter loses count. Most of them are completely unremarkable, which Peter doesn’t mind. He falls asleep next to Juno and he wakes with him tucked into his chest, and Peter tries to pretend that he doesn’t have to shake himself a bit every time he wakes to Juno’s even breaths against his shoulder just to convince himself it’s real.</p><p>Months pass, and the apprehension doesn’t go away. It’s not as if it drives some horrible rift between Peter and Juno, Peter honestly doesn’t think Juno even notices, and they don’t talk about it.</p><p>The closest they get is in the middle of what would have been another of those wholly unremarkable nights when Peter wakes to an empty bed. He can’t deny that he panics; his chest gets impossibly tight and for a moment he swears the airlock must have sprung a leak, because he’s sure there’s not enough oxygen left in the room, hell, in the entire Carte Blanche, to soothe the angry burn that has wormed its way into Peter’s chest. But then Peter sits up and his hand brushes over Juno’s pillow and finds that the fabric is still warm. Almost sickeningly hopeful, he glances to the doorway and Juno is <em>right there</em>, hovering in the threshold with his back to Peter, looking out over the hallway. Peter feels abjectly pathetic for a moment because even that doesn’t make his hands stop shaking.</p><p>Juno turns, stepping back into the room, and the door whooshes shut behind him.</p><p>“Sorry,” he says when he notices Peter, his voice barely above a whisper, “Thought I heard something.” Juno settles back into bed and Peter mirrors him, tucking his hands beneath his pillow as casually as he can manage so that Juno doesn’t see the tremors. It’s a valiant effort, but Juno only has to meet Peter’s eyes in the dim light of their room for a moment before he notices something, and he shifts closer, cradling the side of Peter’s face with one hand.</p><p>“You alright, honey?” Juno asks, thumb stroking gentle circles into Peters’s hairline, and Peter nearly melts, leaning unabashedly into Juno’s hand. Juno cracks a soft, lopsided sort of smile at that and the burn in Peter’s chest dissipates.</p><p>“I’m just fine, darling,” he says, and he’s not honestly sure if he’s lying or not, “You should go back to sleep.”</p><p>“Mhm,” Juno breathes in the tone he uses when he doesn’t believe something but can’t decide whether or not to push. He shifts closer until he can drape an arm around Peter’s waist, their noses nearly touching. Juno looks at him, <em>really </em>looks, and Peter feels more vulnerable under that gaze than he ever has with a blaster to his head or knife to his throat because somehow Juno has managed to learn every one of his tells and mannerisms with more accuracy than Peter himself, and Peter can’t decide if that thrills or terrifies him.</p><p>“I wasn’t going to leave, Nureyev,” Juno says suddenly, the guilt in his voice poorly hidden, “You know that, right?” Peter nods because he does. He <em>knows </em> Juno won’t leave again, both because it’s objectively impossible for Juno to tuck tail and slip out of the Carte Blanche in the middle of the night, what with it being a ship literally hurtling through space and all, and because he trusts that Juno, <em> this </em> Juno, wouldn’t. But that… that doesn’t mean he <em>believes </em>it.</p><p>There’s still some small, white-hot sliver of doubt that wedges itself in between his ribs, that jolts him awake when he feels Juno shift away from him in his sleep, that makes him forget how to breathe when he wakes to find Juno’s side of the bed empty, even if realistically he knows he’s that he’ll only be gone a moment.</p><p>That feeling isn’t all too hard to tamp down on though, especially not <em>now</em>, not when Juno is snuggling into his chest with a leg slung across his waist, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw and collarbones and shoulders until Peter relaxes back into the mattress.</p><p>Peter hugs Juno a bit tighter because suddenly he needs to hold Juno like he needs to breathe.</p><p>Peter knows he’s holding Juno too tight for it to be comfortable, but Juno lets him, going as far as to twine his arms around Peter’s waist, hiking up Peter’s silk camisole top until he can rub firm, sure circles into the bare skin of Peter’s back, and Peter knows it’s meant to be an apology.</p><p>At some point, Juno’s hands stutter and slow as he falls asleep again. Peter almost mourns that loss, but Juno’s weight is warm and steady against him, dark curls tucked against his chin and lips barely brushing the junction between Peter’s neck and shoulders.</p><p>It’s comforting in a way few other things in Peter’s life have ever been, and Peter isn’t afraid that Juno is going to leave. Still, though, that sharp, illogical sliver of doubt is perfectly at home between his ribs, and he doesn’t sleep that night.</p>
<hr/><p>At some point after that, Peter gets sick. Well and truly sick; the kind of ill that clings to you for days and wrenches out every bit of strength you have and then some. Peter can’t remember much of it, but he remembers waking up half-out of his mind with fever in a bed of sheets soaked through with sweat, remembers spending hours in the middle of the night bent double over the toilet, and later an empty trash can when he’d been too weak to walk to the ensuite, heaving up spit and bile until his throat bled. He remembers being helpless and miserable and <em>terrified</em>.</p><p>And he remembers Juno. Sweet, beautiful, <em> perfect</em>, Juno, holding him upright when he couldn’t manage it, running his hand through his sweat-matted hair and whispering sweet nothings to him when he was too strung-out to sleep, and never once leaving his side.</p><p>What he doesn’t remember is clinging desperately onto whatever part of Juno he could reach whenever he tried to go anywhere that wasn’t within a 3 or so foot radius of him, sobbing, “<em>Please don’t leave, please, please, I’m sorry, please don’t-” </em></p><p>Peter doesn’t remember Juno scrambling up into bed with him and clutching him to his chest, peppering his tear-streaked face with kisses and repeating, “<em> Shh, shh, I’m right here, baby. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere, okay? Never</em>,” over and over again until Peter believes him enough to fall back into a fevered sleep.</p><p>It takes three days for Peter to heal enough to wake lucidly, but when he does, it’s to Juno curled up in a chair next to their bed, head resting on Peter’s hip. The sight of Juno exhausted and careworn at his bedside does funny things to Peter’s chest, but he files the feeling away in favor of running a hand through Juno’s mussed curls, scratching lightly at his scalp in the way he knows Juno loves, even if he refuses to admit it.</p><p>After a moment, Juno stirs, sleepily lifting his head enough to look Peter in the eye.</p><p>“Peter?” He mutters, still muzzy with sleep. Peter smiles and drops his hand to trace his fingertips along Juno’s jawline. Juno’s eye flutters closed briefly, and then he jackknifes upright in his chair and looks at Peter like he’s not sure he’s real.</p><p>“Peter?” Juno asks again, clearer this time, and Peter chuckles fondly.</p><p>“Good morning, darling.” Peter isn’t sure what he expects Juno to do- crack some bad joke about Peter needing him more than he’d let on or something, maybe, but what he doesn’t expect is for Juno to surge forward and kiss him senseless. Regardless, that <em>is </em>what Juno does.</p><p>Juno straddles Peter’s waist and cradles his jaw with shaking hands, kissing him fast and hard and desperate, like he’ll die if he doesn’t. Peter doesn’t mind in the least, just wraps his arms around Juno’s hips as Juno tries to worm his way impossibly closer.</p><p>Or rather, Peter doesn’t mind until he tastes salt against his lips. He thinks for a moment it’s sweat, after all, being bedridden for days on end would certainly have made him gross enough for it, but then Juno’s entire frame shudders violently and he makes a quivering, choked sound against Peter’s lips in between kisses.</p><p>Peter practically has to pry Juno off of him, but when finally manages to push Juno away enough to get a good look at his face, his heart nearly snaps in two. Juno’s face is contorted into something between relief and panic and his dark skin is flushed an angry red as near-silent tears drip from his good eye.</p><p>“Juno-” he starts, but Juno cuts him off, rubbing angrily at his eye with the sleeve of his hoodie.</p><p>“Fuck,” he chokes, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was gonna do that.” Peter isn’t sure if Juno means kissing him or crying, but he guesses it doesn’t matter.</p><p>“I’m so fucking horrible at this,” Juno continues, “I’m so sorry, you’ve been sick, and you shouldn’t have to deal with my- my <em> bullshit</em>, right now, I just-”</p><p>“<em>Juno</em>,” Peter starts again, emphatic, “my love. My darling. You’ve done <em>nothing </em>wrong, alright? There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Juno blatantly refuses to look Peter in the eye.</p><p>“Is there… something else?” Peter asked, rubbing tiny circles into the soft space above Juno’s hip bones with his thumbs. Juno shifted uncomfortably like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be closer to or further from Peter.</p><p>“Promise you won’t be angry?” Juno’s voice was uncharacteristically small. That question was something that clung to Juno no matter how hard he tried to shake it. A method of self-protection from his past that he no longer needed.</p><p>“Of course,” Peter said, though Juno didn’t seem quite as comforted by it as he normally would be.</p><p>“Um,” Juno started, looking down his lap, “I… I don’t think you trust me, Nureyev.”</p><p>“Oh,” Peter had to shake himself for a minute because whatever he’d expected it… hadn't been that.</p><p>“Of course I trust you, dearest. Why would you think I didn’t?” Juno looked half ready to start crying again. Peter tried to pull him closer again- Juno had always been one for physical affection, no matter how much he denied it- but Juno shook him off, sliding off of Peter’s lap entirely to sit on the bed across from him, barely close enough for their knees to touch.</p><p>“When you were sick, you- you kept begging me not to leave,” Juno started, actively blinking away tears, “I know I left you once, but I thought-”</p><p>“No, no, I’ve forgiven you for that, a thousand times over,” Peter reached out to sweep a thumb across Juno’s cheek, “You hurt me, yes, but you’ve also proven to me that you’re not the same lady you were when you when made that choice, and I trust you not to make that choice again.”</p><p>“Please don’t lie to me.” Juno shifted further away from him on the bed. Peter’s chest tightened, and he fought the urge to pull Juno back, to hold him as he had been.</p><p>“I’m... not,” he said lamely, and Juno cast him the sort of look he used to decipher evidence and crime scenes. Peter felt a bit like a bug trapped under a viewing glass, a hair’s breadth away from roasting in an ill-cast beam of light.</p><p>“I’m not stupid, Nureyev. It’s not like I don’t see how,” Juno made a vague gesture, “-I don’t know, <em> weird </em> you get every time I get up in the middle of the night, or go somewhere without telling you, or, fuck, I don’t know, pretty much anything that doesn’t involve you being glued to my hip.” Juno exhaled heavily enough to make his shoulders shake. Dark bags under his eyes stood out like purpling bruises.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just... Tired. Really, <em> really, </em>fucking tired.” Peter reached out an arm, and, after a moment, Juno tucked himself into Peter’s side.</p><p>“I wasn’t lying to you,” Peter started, finding it much easier to talk with Juno’s comforting weight pressed against him, “I <em> do </em> trust you; I don’t think you’ll leave. I just have trouble making myself believe it sometimes, I suppose. Like there’s still some part of me that expects everyone to leave, and it’s… It’s not sure how to reconcile the fact that I know <em> you </em> won’t.”</p><p>“Is there anything I can do? To help, I mean.” Peter mulled over the thought for a moment, looping his arms around Juno's waist.<br/>
“I don’t think so. I think I just have to… adjust, for a time. Wait for my mind to catch up to where we already are.”</p><p>“Ok,” Juno breathed, shuffling impossibly closer, “I can wait.”</p>
<hr/><p>It took time, a <em> lot </em>of time, honestly; months on months of mundane nights and mundane mornings, but things evened themselves out.</p><p>Peter barely noticed it when it was happening, just woke feeling groggy and warm, and reached out for Juno without taking even the slightest moment to question whether or not he’d be there. He just <em>knew </em>it, implicitly. <em> Believed </em>it.</p><p>He was already half-pressed to Juno’s chest when he realized it, and jolted so hard he nearly smacked himself against the headboard. Giddy, he turned back to Juno, wrapping his arms around him and pressing kisses to everywhere he could think of- his cheek, his forehead, his nose, his collarbones, his lips- until Juno stirred and kissed him back, slow and languid, still half asleep.</p><p>“Good morning, dearest,” Peter said between kisses, brushing a few curls from Juno’s face, skin still soft and sleep-warm.</p><p>Juno yawned loudly and tucked himself into Peter’s shoulder.</p><p>“You’re in a good mood,” he hummed, pressing up into Peter’s hand when he carded it through his hair. “It’s rather difficult not to be waking up next to you, darling.”</p><p>Juno snorted a laugh, “Laying it on a little thick, sweetheart.”</p><p>“Oh, well woe is you, Juno,” Peter sighed dramatically, pulling Juno up to lay on his chest, “Too loved for your own good.”</p><p>Juno gave him a lazy, lopsided smile, “‘Loved’, huh?”</p><p>“Oh, very,” Peter replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “More than anything.” Juno smiled again, pressing another soft kiss to his lips.</p><p>“Love you, too, hon,” he started, stifling a yawn, “So much, actually, that I think I might fall back asleep right here.” He tapped Peter’s bare chest, chipped black manicure shining in the low light of their bedroom.</p><p>“Oh, if you must,” Peter wrapped his arms around Juno’s back, holding him close as he snuggled into his chest. A handful of minutes passed, just the two of them breathing in each other, floating in that liminal place between sleep and waking. At some point, Juno starts snoring softly again, deadweight against Peter’s chest, and Peter thinks he’s the happiest he’s ever been, holding his lady flush to his chest.</p><p>Eventually, he falls back to sleep and doesn’t think for a moment about uncertainties.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi if you made it this far i'd like to offer you my firstborn as compensation. if you leave a comment/kudos my second born may also be on the table. </p><p>come yell at me on tumblr @gently-used-fairytale if you want. also feel free to shout ideas at me and i might write them or at least shout about them with you. ok i love you all very much please drink some water ok xoxo<br/>-ec</p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30102363">[Podfic] ghosting</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualoftheblade/pseuds/bisexualoftheblade_podfics">bisexualoftheblade_podfics (bisexualoftheblade)</a>
    </li>
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